Partners
by starshards
Summary: Poland and Lithuania were partners in just about everything that they did... Lithuania/Poland


SO. UH. YEAH. HI.

First post. I hope that it doesn't make people think that there's some kind of low standard going down here.

It was a birthday fic for my lovely friend, Ryin. 8D!

* * *

Poland and Lithuania were partners. They had been for hundreds of years in nearly every sense of the word. Trade partners, allied partners, dance partners, harvesting partners, _sexual_ partners. However, there was one kind of partnership that they'd never had…

'You want me to _what?' _Lithuania asked incredulously one day, looking up from his morning newspaper as he sat at the kitchen table.

'Be my totally hot partner in crime!' Poland responded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Lithuania was tempted to just go back to reading his newspaper. Really, _really_ tempted. Then he took one look at Poland's eager expression and held back a long sigh, inwardly cursing at his inability to deny Poland _anything_ (except possibly for Vilnius, but that had been during one of their few rows in several centuries, so the score _still_ stood at about fifty million- to- one in Poland's favour.)

He set the paper down, as if that would somehow enable him to understand Poland better. 'Okay… are you talking about some kind of fancy-dress party here and you want me to go as your sidekick?' he rationalised.

'What? _No_,' Poland responded as if _Lithuania's_ suggestion had been crazy. 'I mean in real life. I need a partner in crime, and I want that partner to be you, Liet.'

Lithuania stared at him for a long moment with a blank expression. Then he blinked when the realisation that he really, _really_ should be used to this thing by now set in and the confusion faded. 'What kind of crimes are we talking about here, Poland? Crimes against fashion? Buying alcohol for underage kids? Launching an invasion on someone?' He hoped that it was the first. Scratch that, he hoped that it was _none_ of them.

'Well,' Poland sat down opposite Lithuania and put on an unnervingly business-like expression. 'Remember when Russia was _oh so generously_ allowing us to stay around his house?' Poland accompanied the "oh so generously" with quotation gestures. He really didn't need to, since Lithuania _got_ the sarcasm.

He really wanted to say something along the lines of _yes, I more than remember, thanks_, but one look at Poland's adorably serious expression changed that to a 'yes?'

'Well, I had this absolutely _gorgeous_ coat and I've left it there, Liet.' Lithuania gave him a _so what_ expression. 'Liet!' Poland sounded insulted. 'That was totally my favourite coat! It was so _cute_, and now it's there, left in those big, idiot hands of Russia's. Have you thought about what would happen if he tries it on? He's like, so fat he'd totally ruin it!'

'Why don't you buy a new one?' Lithuania suggested.

'Because I bought it in 1925, Liet,' Poland said. 'And the style of it is so _in_ right now.'

'So, what exactly is your idea, Poland? Because if it involves me going to Moscow, knocking on Russia's door and going "Hi, Russia! I know that you effectively kept me as your personal slave on and off for a couple of hundred years, and that you still haven't quite accepted that I'm independent from you yet, but Poland, you know, the guy that you hate because he would never do what you told him to, ruined soviet rule for you, and cockblocks you from moving West? Well he left his coat around yours and I was wondering if I could just grab it for him because we live together and I'm on my way home." Then the answer is _no_,' Lithuania finished, taking a deep breath as he did so because he was a little short on breath after that short rant.

Poland fixed him with baffled stare. 'Uh, no, Liet. I was going to say that we should break in.'

It took Lithuania a moment to remember to breathe. 'You… you want us to break in to a house. You want us to break into _Russia's_ house?' he said utter disbelief. Poland grinned and nodded. 'Are you _crazy_? He exploded. 'Are you actually _insane_? This is _Russia_ we're talking about. Have you got any idea what he'd _do_ if he caught us sneaking around his house? The UN wouldn't even be able to help us because we were the ones breaking in! Poland, you're suggesting a suicide mission over a damn _coat_.'

The blond looked upset. Lithuania very rarely voiced his irritation, and it was always a shock when he did. True to form though, it wasn't out of anger that Lithuania spoke up, but out of fear. The things he'd seen happen to Poland over the last century had _scared _him and he didn't want to see his closest friend hurt like that again. The blond had a miraculous ability to get himself into trouble, and while he always, _somehow_, bounced back from it every time, Lithuania would rather that he didn't get hurt in the _first_ place. He just wanted to protect him, but sometimes he had to wonder if the biggest threat to Poland's safety wasn't _himself_.

'That's okay, Liet.' Poland's voice was quiet and his head was angled down, causing Lithuania to almost miss what he was saying. 'It was really selfish of me, I'm sorry,' he said, looking genuinely crestfallen.

_Twang!_ You could almost _hear_ the sound of Lithuania's heartstrings being pulled. For the hundred- millionth time since knowing him, Lithuania once again cursed his inability to say no to Poland. 'What's your plan?' he sighed.

Poland's head snapped up. 'Wha- Liet, it's fine. Really,' he said, eyes wide in surprise.

'Poland. You and I both know that your heart is set on that coat and that, even though it's a silly, silly idea, you _will_ go with or without me. And you know that even though I think that we shouldn't, I _won't_ let you go alone. So let's save ourselves the argument. What's your plan?' The Pole's face broke into a heart-melting smile, and Lithuania couldn't help but smile back, until he realised that he was supposed to be disapproving and forced himself to wear a stern expression.

'Well, it's summer right? Which, by the way, this coat is me being practical because it's _totally_ snugly for the winter- anyway, it's summer, which means that it's not minus twenty-thousand degrees at Russia's place. If you remember, in the summer, Russia likes to spend his time outdoors, out in the fields with the pretty flowers and pretty skies, stomping on baby rabbits or whatever else it is that he likes to do. At night, he's rarely in, because he totally likes to sleep outside with the other animals, or crashes at Belarus' place.' Lithuania had to smile at the way that Poland's insults were a completely natural part of his speech. 'Add to that the fact that us, Estonia, and Latvia hightailed it out of there the first chance that we could… you've got yourself a completely empty house.'

It kind of made sense… if sneaking into Russia's house was _any_ sort of sense to start with.

'When do we go?' Lithuania asked wearily.

Poland grinned brightly at him.

* * *

It was a week and a half later that they were standing outside of Russia's house. Russia had gone for a diplomatic mission over to (or, more likely, attempt to scare the shit out of) England for the night. The wait had somehow allowed Poland to come up with "thieving" clothes, which consisted of a tight, black roll neck jumper, and tight black trousers tucked into black ankle high boots, finished off with a black cap.

Conspicuous? No. Lithuania had gone with a shirt and comfortable jeans.

'Poland, did your clothes really have to be so tight?' Lithuania complained quietly as they hid in some bushes. 'It makes you look ridiculous.' That and the outline of his lovely, tight ass was really well displayed, which was Lithuania's _real_ problem.

'Of course, Liet,' Poland whispered back. 'It lets me move much more stealthily, now… which window should we use?"

'Hmm?' Lithuania made a questioning noise, eyes jolting back up to Poland's face.

'Which window should we go in through? Can you remember which one was my room?' Poland asked.

'Can't we just use the back door? I have the key,' Lithuania answered in a deadpan voice.

Poland pouted. 'That's not as fun.'

'It's not supposed to be_ fun_, Poland,' the brunette responded, fishing around in his pocket for the key. 'And I'd really rather not have Russia find out about this,' he added as an afterthought.

'Fine,' Poland rolled his eyes and huffed. Then he stood up and strode out of their hiding place, sauntering towards back door entrance.

Lithuania was torn, once again, between telling the blond off, and staring at the liquid way in which he seemed to move in those damn clothes. He ended up making a strange sort of 'Ehn,' sound that thankfully, Poland missed.

In order to salvage some sort of pride, Lithuania made sure that he reached the door first. He held his breath, unconsciously biting his lip as he turned the key. Much to his relief, the door swung open without cliché creaking hinges, and they both stepped into the house.

Memories came flooding back to the pair of them, making them both unusually sombre and quiet as they moved purposefully through the empty home. It looked like any other Russian household, and yet, in the faint, sickly lights of the city outside it seemed stifling and creepy. Even Poland refrained from his usual jovial act, keeping close to Lithuania as they mounted the stairs that they knew led to Poland's old room.

'Do you think it's in there?' Lithuania whispered, inclining his head towards the door.

Poland nodded. 'For sure, unless you know, Russia stole it. Ew. I bet he has! I bet he breathes in my scent from it.'

'Why would he do that?' Lithuania looked confused.

'You know,' Poland's voice dropped even lower. 'So he can…' he made a hand gesture.

'Oh, _Poland_!' The brunette looked horrified. 'That's disgusting!'

Poland shrugged. 'You never know.'

'Yes,' Lithuania agreed. 'I'd rather _never_ know.' With that, he (quietly) wrenched the door open and stepped into Poland's former room. Strangely enough, it was actually one of the few times that he'd been in it, since Russia hadn't liked them spending time together alone (probably with good reason) back in the Soviet days. It was a very formal, very neutral room, and Lithuania was struck by how… _un-Poland_ it was. He was suddenly thankful that the blond hadn't spent much time at Russia's place during that era. Belated as it was, he didn't ever want to see Poland stuck in a place like this.

He looked over towards his long-term partner, previous disgust forgotten and replaced instead with an odd, warm sort of feeling. Poland always ended up dragging him along on these crazy ventures, but somehow, looking around this organised, uniform room it seemed like a much better alternative.

He sent a smile in the Pole's direction, only to find that he had already headed towards the tall wardrobe and had tugged the doors open.

'Oh my _God_, Liet! I totally forgot about these shoes!' his voice was muffled from where his head was practically buried in the clothes that were hanging up. He pulled back, bearing both a grin and a pair of what seemed to be sea-green shoes (Lithuania wasn't too sure since the lighting in the room was awful), with small heels, and gold buckles. 'They are so _cute_. Don't you think they'd go with that green dress I have?'

'The mint green one with the white petticoat?' Lithuania tried.

'No, the deep green, 1940s-style one, though, that's a really good idea, Liet,' Poland commended him. He secured the shoes under his arm and went back to rifling through his old clothes. 'Ew, did I _wear_ this stuff? It's gross. What _is_ it with Russia and the colour grey? Honestly, it totally doesn't go with my complexion.'

Lithuania tuned him out for a while, instead, leaning against the door frame and dreaming up scenarios in which Russia came home suddenly, or a random housemaid was staying in the house and caught them. Poland's sudden shout of 'Aha!' startled him enough to make him almost fall off of his leaning post and out into the hallway.

'Poland!' he hissed. 'Keep it down, will you?' Oh God, they were _so_ fucked if someone heard them. They were doomed, damned, and-

'Sorry, Liet!' Poland sang out. 'But I found one of my old bags!'

'And?' Lithuania prompted, still looking wildly around for any signs that someone had heard them and notified the police.

'I can totally take back more of my stuff!' With that, Poland stuck his head back into the wardrobe, and set about stuffing several items into his new, old bag.

'Poland, can you _please_ just grab the coat so that we can get out of here?'

'Fine, fine,' Poland huffed. 'Here it is!' he reached out and bundled the infamous coat into his bag. It was a fairly large bag, but even so, Lithuania had to wonder how it wasn't bursting apart at the seams with all of the clothes that he could _guarantee_ Poland shoved in there.

'Can we _please_ go now?' Lithuania implored.

The blond rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Chillax, Liet. We're like, so totally safe right now.' He paused as he stepped back out into the hallway. 'Although… Liet!' he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. 'Why don't you go and check out your old room? There might be some stuff in there you left behind that you could take home now! It's not like Russia would ever know,' he dropped his voice conspiratorially.

Lithuania stopped in his tracks too, looking away from Poland so that the blond couldn't see him bite his lip. He wanted to get out of here _now_ but… what the Pole had said… he was right. There _was_ something that Lithuania had left here. Something utterly precious to him that, in his haste to leave, he had left behind. He had only realised once he had reached the safety of his own home that it hadn't been nestled in his bag as he had thought it had been. For years he had regretted it, but it was only until just now, when Poland had mentioned going to his old room, that he realised that he could actually get it back.

He cleared his throat and put on his best authoritative voice. 'Wait here. I'm going to have a quick look.'

Poland raised his hands in mock surrender. 'Fine,' he smiled.

Lithuania fixed him with a pleading look, hoping that he would do just that, before setting off down the long corridor. He rounded a corner, and was incredibly surprised to find himself standing before his familiar old door. Back then… at that time, Poland had seemed like he was a million miles away, and all along he had been this close? He shook his head in wonder, though a faint shiver crept its way up his spine. Trying to shrug off the suddenly heavy atmosphere, Lithuania held his breath, seized the handle and tore the door open.

Whatever demons he expected to face fled into the shadows, leaving behind a stark, orderly, grey room.

Lithuania felt a laugh bubble up in his throat, but hurriedly quashed it. Now was not the time for hysteria, he chided himself, not in such unsafe territory. Later he would feel relieved. Later when he and Poland had returned home safely.

Purposefully, Lithuania set his face in a neutral expression, and strode over to his old writing desk. He paused, eyes softening as they gazed upon something that he had not seen in a long time. His heart gave a sharp tug as he reached out to touch it, still laying where he had left it on the polished wooden surface. The maids must clean in here often, he thought distantly; there was no trace of dust.

It was a miracle that it was still intact; it's age more than the turbulent times that it had seen being the reason for that. Lithuania cradled it gently in his hands; a far away look in his eyes as two sets of joyful green eyes stared back. A little brunette alongside an even littler blond stood side by side in a field of rye, twin smiles painted across their faces. They looked so very content together, two best friends on a perfect day a long, long time ago. The painter had never become famous. His style hadn't been 'fashionable' for the time, but Poland and Lithuania both had loved how beautifully the man could capture a moment. In a time long before photographs had even been imagined, he had given a young 'Toris' and 'Feliks' a perfect memento of a wonderful day. It had been the first time they had used their assumed names, although Poland had blown it by continuing to call him _Liet_ as their painter had done his primary sketches.

Lithuania smiled, running his fingertips over it reverently as he recalled the many times in which it had kept him strong. He had missed it, he realised then. Of course, now he had the genuine article back, kicking him in his sleep, and tugging on his hair when he wanted attention, but still… He pocketed the picture, patting it gently for good measure, and left the room without a second glance.

He closed the door behind him, and set off back down the corridor, but as he rounded the corner, he had to force himself not to shout out in surprise. Poland –who was definitely _not_ where he had left him, who was standing _right in front of him_- didn't even spare him a second glance from where he was staring up at the door in front of him. 'Hey, Liet,' he muttered.

'I… you…' Lithuania began, clutching a hand to his chest and willing his heart to slow down. 'What are you _doing_?' he whispered harshly.

Poland turned to look at him. 'Russia's room,' he responded with a tilt of his head. 'You get what you want?' he asked.

'What? Yes, but you didn't answer my question. What are you doing outside of Russia's door?'

'Well,' Poland sounded contemplative. 'I was thinking about going in,' he grinned then, a wide, wicked grin 'and peeing in his shoes.'

'Don't you _dare_!' Lithuania sounded horrified. Not because of the fact that the idea seemed abhorrent to him (actually the quiet, well-buried, nasty little voice in the back of his mind found the idea _hilarious_) but because then it would be _really_ obvious that intruders had been in the house, and Lithuania would be much happier if they got home as soon as possible and no one ever, ever found out about this.

'Aw, Liet, you're such-'

_Clatter!_

Their eyes widened simultaneously. 'Wha-?'

_Bang!_

In an instant, they were pressed together. The hands that weren't wrapped tightly around the other's waist were pressed to their mouths as they stared at each other with wide eyes. Oh shit. Oh shit. They were fucked, they were absolutely _fucked_. They hardly dared to breathe, the silence around them sickening, bearing down on them. Their minds raced, both weighing up their options. Poland was the one that could talk big, so he could possibly talk their way out of this if it was a maid or someone like that; and he had always fared better when standing up to Russia than Lithuania, if it was Russia. Then again though, Poland was shy and an awful liar. Lithuania on the other hand was the better fighter, and probably would do a much better job if their only option was to rush out. His years of working under Russia had also honed his diplomacy skills, so perhaps he could get Russia to not eat their hearts and…

Who were they kidding? They were a former farming nation. They could maybe get the EU to help them out, or if America was feeling particularly full of justice the UN might do something, but they were in Russia's _house_. They'd violated treaties, and sovereignty, and _everything_.

Surprisingly, it was Poland who pulled away first. 'Liet, let me go. This is my fault anyway, so you could, like, sneak past me or something while I distract him.' Lithuania stared at him for a moment, and then did something extremely uncharacteristic. He non-too gently slapped Poland on the back of the head. 'O-ow! What the Hell, Liet?' Poland hissed.

'If you think for a _second_ I'm letting you go on your own, you have another thing coming!' he whispered heatedly. 'We go together, and we sort this out together. Come on.' With a confidence he did not feel, Lithuania strode off towards the staircase with Poland trailing closely along behind him. They descended, wincing at every creak the steps made. Poland clung unconsciously onto Lithuania's arm as they went until they reached the bottom, where Lithuania shrugged him off and took his hand instead.

Hesitantly, they crept along, eyes darting around as their paranoia grew at every shadow.

_Clatter!_

The pair of them almost shrieked. Poland leapt behind Lithuania, gripping his hand with nearly enough force to break it. Lithuania was thankful for it, since the pain allowed him to focus through his sudden panic. He spun around, facing the direction that the sound had come from. His eyes widened.

Poland turned around with him, on the verge of asking what on _Earth_ his partner was thinking when he too noticed the hulking shadow emerging from what he remembered to be the kitchen. They both stood deathly still, frozen in horror, as the shadow grew larger. Any moment, _any moment_… Lithuania wanted to do _something_. It was too late to hide, or to run out of the door, but he felt like he should try. He felt like he should do something dramatic, like maybe grab Poland and give him the deep, toe-curling kind of goodbye kiss that was so popular in movies. He felt that he should turn to him and say something, maybe something simple like "_It was really fun knowing you," _or, "_Thanks for being my best friend for seven-hundred years_."

He felt like he should do all of those things, and Poland's thoughts were not much different, and yet they remained frozen, unready for what was to come.

A white and black head popped around the doorframe. A… panda head?

Poland made some kind of flamboyant gesture next to him. 'A _panda_?' he half yelled- half whispered when he remembered that he was supposed to be a thief. 'Russia has a pet _panda_?'

Lithuania giggled, the signals for relief and heart-stopping panic somehow mixing with the realisation that there was a panda lumbering out of the kitchen, making his head go a little bit funny. 'Does that really strike you as odd?'

Poland paused for a moment, regarding the ludicrous situation with an oddly serious expression. 'I guess not…' he said after a time.

'Do you think,' Lithuania said, once his hysteria had cleared, 'that maybe that is our cue to get the Hell out of here?'

'Yeah… yeah I think you're kinda right there,' he breathed, belatedly realising just how close they'd come to possible doom. He stared at the panda that was now sitting in the hallway, munching on… what looked like a chocolate bar. 'Panda.' What else could he say? He shook his head and allowed Lithuania to tug him towards the back door.

The brunette calmly locked the door behind him, and tossed the key as far as he could into the extensive shrubbery around Russia's house. He then seized Poland's wrist, and ran like the fires of Hell were chasing them, all the way back to Poland's house.

They didn't stop running until they barrelled into Poland's house and Lithuania had locked, and bolted the door.

'Hey, I know it got kinda creepy back there, but you have to admit that that was kinda fun, Liet,' Poland grinned as Lithuania slid the last chain lock into place.

Lithuania swung around to where the blond was leaning heavily against the wall with an unusually dark expression on his face. 'You!' he spluttered. '_You!_' Lithuania flung his hands in the air and stomped towards the stairs. 'You are sleeping on the sofa tonight, Poland. You'll find a fresh sheet in the ironing basket.' With that he stormed up the stairs, leaving Poland at the bottom, gaping at him.

* * *

They didn't wake up until the afternoon. Obviously, Poland had ended up in their bed after all. He'd followed Lithuania up not long after the brunette had ordered him to sleep downstairs, apparently making up a song involving overuse of the word 'sorry' as he did so, because he then proceeded to sing it at the Lithuanian for several minutes until the latter gave up and let him climb in.

It was 6:30am before they even got to sleep.

The sound of Poland's yell cut through comforting, dark depths of Lithuania's sleep. He darted up in bed, eyes wild as he readied himself to fight to the death if needs be.

Poland was standing by the window, holding what looked like a coat.

'What is it?' Lithuania asked, frantic.

Slowly Poland turned away from the window, green eyes carrying a heart-broken look. 'Liet…'

'What is it?' he asked softly, sliding himself out of bed. It was Russia. It had to be. He _knew_.

'It's the wrong coat,' Poland whispered miserably.

It was going to be the partitions all over—_what_?

'What?' Lithuania asked, barely daring to believe his ears.

'It's not the coat that I love.' Poland looked desolate.

Lithuania on the other hand, looked… well he wasn't sure _what_ emotion to decide upon. 'How is it not the right coat?' he asked steadily.

'I couldn't see very well last night, but it's not the right shade! And it doesn't have those gorgeous gold buttons, or the fur-lined hood. It doesn't even have a _hood_, Liet.' Poland continued.

'Do you by any chance, mean that crimson- coloured coat with the embroidered sleeves?' Lithuania responded in a quiet voice.

'Yeah! Wow, Liet you have _such_ an amazing memory!' Poland gasped.

Lithuania slowly closed his eyes. 'That's probably because I hung it up in your wardrobe about three weeks ago after I found it under the bed.'

'Wah, _really_?'

"Yes, Poland. You wore it _last winter_,' Lithuania reminded him.

'Wow, I did? I—oh! I remember now, Liet! It was from when we went out for dinner with Hungary and we walked through the park on the way home! Oh my God, I had totally forgotten about that!' Poland smiled joyfully, hurrying over towards his wardrobe. He found the coat after a moment's search, thrusting the coat out at arms length to admire it. 'I never thought to look that far back!'

'Evidently,' Lithuania replied in a very steady voice.

'I uhh…' Poland had the grace to look quite bashful. 'I guess that our little "adventure" last night was a little bit unnecessary, huh?'

Last night they had broken into Russia's house. They had broken into Russia's house, nearly had heart attacks out of sheer terror, and could well have been caught. They had entered the lion's den, stomped around it in and had taken some stuff while they were at it. It had been the stupidest stunt that they would probably pull for at least the next century, and it had all been for a coat that had never left their own house in the first place.

Lithuania didn't know whether to cry, scream, slam his face into the wall, or laugh.

And then he took one look at Poland, paused and then sighed for what probably wouldn't be the first time that day. Once again, he cursed silently to himself. He was always going to be Lithuania, Poland was always going to be Poland, and they were always going to be partners in just about everything that they did. His curse was not aimed at that, but the fact that he was totally fine with it being that way.

'At least you got those nice shoes,' he offered finally.

Poland's worry evaporated, and he gave Lithuania a sweet smile. 'Yeah. I really do dig those shoes. And you were right, you know. About the mint-green dress with the white petticoat.'

Lithuania nodded once, and made to move off towards their en suite bathroom.

'Liet?' Poland's voice made him stop in his tracks, and he looked back enquiringly towards the blond. 'How… how can I make it up to you?' he asked, entirely sincere.

Lithuania took a moment to think on it, before quirking a smile. 'You can start by wearing your burglar trousers around the house today, and we'll see where we go from there.'

Poland watched him go to have his morning shower with a perplexed expression, before shrugging and turning his attention back to the coat.

'You're not as cute as I remember you being,' he whispered. He glanced towards the bathroom's now closed door, and a soft smile touched his lips. 'But we won't be telling Liet that, will we?'

* * *


End file.
